


you’re not my homeland anymore (but i’ll love you till my dying day)

by halfwayinit



Category: EastEnders (TV)
Genre: Callum Highway Week 2021, M/M, focus mainly on callum x chris, mentions of death/grief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 12:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30139683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfwayinit/pseuds/halfwayinit
Summary: The barracks is enveloped in a blanket of darkness, the only light a faint glow from the half moon, as Callum quietly makes his way through the courtyard and towards the cluster of trees at the edge of the quarters. Every inch of his body tingles with exhilaration, his heart pounding in a steady thump-thump-thump in his chest. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, sneaking around in the dead of the night, waiting until the dusk has transformed into a veil of black before they dare to unveil themselves.or, a look into a love that ended too soon.
Relationships: Callum "Halfway" Highway/Ben Mitchell, Callum ''Halfway'' Highway/Chris Kennedy
Comments: 10
Kudos: 33





	you’re not my homeland anymore (but i’ll love you till my dying day)

**Author's Note:**

> hiiii this is my contribution for callum highway week over on tumblr!!  
> the focus of this fic is mainly on callum and chris’ relationship, and there are talks of death and grief, so if that’s not something you’re comfortable reading then that’s completely fine x 
> 
> hope u enjoy <3

The barracks is enveloped in a blanket of darkness, the only light a faint glow from the half moon, as Callum quietly makes his way through the courtyard and towards the cluster of trees at the edge of the quarters. Every inch of his body tingles with exhilaration, his heart pounding in a steady _thump-thump-thump_ in his chest. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, sneaking around in the dead of the night, waiting until the dusk has transformed into a veil of black before they dare to unveil themselves. 

Callum sees him as soon as he turns the corner, can make out the shape of his body in the darkness as he leans against the trunk of an oak tree, head tipped back to take in the night sky above him. It makes Callum’s breath hitch in his throat as that familiar feeling of _want_ curls low in his stomach. 

From the moment he locked eyes with Chris, he knew. He gravitated naturally towards Chris, wanted to be around him all the time, to be the one to put that blinding smile on his face. It wasn’t a feeling Callum had before, not for anyone, let alone a man he didn’t even know. It confused him at first, unsure of why he felt such a closeness to this stranger. It wasn’t until a few months later, the two of them the last two left in the pub on a rare night off, that Callum realised what it was. He wanted Chris, more than a friend, more than just a lover even. The entire walk back to the barracks, Callum could think of one thing and one thing only, how badly he wanted to kiss Chris. It was a terrifying feeling, he’d never kissed another man before, never wanted to kiss another man before Chris. It made his palms sweat as they walked side by side, Callum unable to stop himself from stealing glances at Chris as they walked. God, he was beautiful, and Callum _wanted_ him. So much so that it clouded his mind with what it would be like, something inside him telling him to _do it_ , _kiss him,_ _you know you want to._

He almost let it go, telling himself that it was just the alcohol talking, he was drunk and not thinking straight. Quite literally not thinking straight. Even if he did kiss him, who’s to say that Chris would kiss him back? No, Callum could control himself, or at least that what he told himself. His resolve lasted until they found themselves standing face to face in Callum’s room, close enough that Callum could feel Chris’ breath on his face, neither of them willing to be the one who backed away first. As cliche as it may sound, it almost felt like time had slowed down as they stood there, eyes meeting in the faint light. A quick glance from Chris to Callum’s lips was enough to tell him everything he needed to know, and before he could tell himself not to, he caught Chris’ lips between his own, relief flooding his veins as he felt the other man’s body practically melt into his own. It was soft and sweet at first, just innocent kisses pressed to waiting lips, until it wasn't anymore. He remembers how Chris’ had gripped his neck with one hand, tongue licking filthily into his mouth as his other hand wandered to Callum’s belt buckle. It was frantic from there, the two of them pulling at each other’s clothes until they were almost completely stripped, falling back onto Callum’s bed as their inhibitions vanished with every kiss. They didn’t go much farther that night than desperate kisses and wandering hands, but it was enough to set Callum’s soul alight. The way Chris made him feel, it was burning hot and so very intense, enough to make Callum’s spin and his chest tighten at every sight of him. 

They’ve been meeting secretly like this since then, unwilling to stay apart. Callum thinks of them as two lost souls sometimes, desperately aching to find a place to belong until they found each other. Now, he comes to a stop in front of Chris, savouring the way the older man’s eyes light up in his presence, tongue swiping across his bottom lip as he grips Callum’s hips. 

“Thought you were gonna stand me up for a minute there, Halfway.” His voice is light, teasing even, but the way his fingers tighten their grip on Callum’s body gives away the lingering insecurity there. Callum can’t blame him, he feels it too sometimes, that unnerving worry that Chris will realise he doesn’t want to sneak around like this anymore, that Callum isn’t worth the hassle of getting caught. 

Callum presses soft fluttering kisses down the expanse of Chris’ neck, fingers instinctively running through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “Never” Callum murmurs, lips still moving sweetly against Chris’ skin, “You’re stuck with me.” 

Chris just lets out a quiet laugh, head tipping back against the solid oak and eyes fluttering shut as Callum’s lips move along the soft skin of his neck. Callum remembers thinking in that moment _\- this must be what love feels like._

Months later, when Callum is discharged on medical grounds, he clings on to that thought and they try hard to make it work, whatever ‘it’ is. They write to each other, sending letters and emails almost every week, sometimes even sharing a whispered phone call into the early hours of the morning, hushed laughter and longing words fading into the night. It makes Callum’s chest ache, being away from Chris for so long. He misses catching his gaze across the room, eyes sparkling as they try to stop the smitten smiles from spreading across their lips. He misses sneaking around late into the night, stolen kisses away from the eyes of the other soldiers. Most of all, he misses Chris’ smile, the way it lit up his entire face, eyes shining bright, so contagious that it made everyone around him smile too. 

For a few weeks, it’s almost like nothing has changed. They talk pretty much every day, growing closer emotionally as the physical distance remains the same. But, slowly the letters begin to get shorter, the phone calls less and less frequent, and soon it has all stopped completely. Callum thinks about writing again, to ask Chris if he’s okay, if Callum had done something to hurt or offend him. But something stops him every time he picks up the pen or starts to dial Chris’ number. 

Eventually, Callum accepts that Chris doesn’t want anything to do with him, he tells himself that Chris has just grown tired of him, of them. What could Callum offer him? A few letters and phone calls every week, it wasn't enough, he couldn’t expect Chris to hang on for that. A little part of him still held out hope though, that one day, even if it was years down the line, they might find their way back to one another again.

Their paths cross again much sooner than Callum had expected, and more tragically than he could have ever prepared himself for. When Vicky breaks the news to him that Chris has died in a car accident, it knocks the wind out of him. He hardly remembers the conversation, just the devastated look on Vicky’s face and how she had held back tears as she tried to ask him about the letters about ‘H’.

God, he’d almost forgotten the way _Halfway_ had rolled so effortlessly off Chris’ tongue, a teasing smirk on his face every time as all the blood rushed to Callum’s cheeks. He wasn’t halfway anything when he was with Chris, for the first time in his life he felt _whole._ Callum remembers the night he had snuck Chris into his room, the way a stifled giggle had fallen from Chris’ lips as Callum dropped to his knees and kissed his way down his torso, lips sucking a mark right above his hip bone, something for Chris to remember tomorrow when they were back to being no more than comrades.

“Someone’s eager tonight.. You missed me that much Halfway?”

Callum couldn’t help himself as he lifted his chin to meet Chris’ gaze, eyes wide and sincere as he answered him.

“Miss you every time we’re not together.”

It was true, he longed for Chris every time they were apart. He dreamt of it, a life where they were together, out and proud without a care in the world about what people might think, what they might say. But, that wasn’t their reality. Sure, they talked about the possibility of it sometimes, what it might be like to be truly together. It was a pipe dream, a way to quell the ache in their chests that longed for more than stolen kisses and wishful looks.

Now, Callum would give anything to go back to that night. To scramble to his feet, take Chris in his arms, and never ever let go. He’d press kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, the little freckle on his temple, and to his lips. Slow, lingering kisses that would say _I’m here and I love you, I’m not going anywhere_.

Once Vicky left, Callum expected himself to fall apart. But he just sat there, numb. It almost felt unreal, the idea that there could be a world without Chris in it. When he left work that day, he went straight to the box at the back of his wardrobe, needing to feel close to Chris again somehow. Tears mixed with the ink on the pages as he read the letters, each one another piercing pain to his heart. Even in his letters, Chris was larger than life itself, the utter light that he emitted evident in every word he wrote. 

Callum wasn’t sure he could face the funeral. How do you say goodbye to someone like Chris? There was so much Callum never got the chance to say to him, to thank him for. 

_You deserved to be so happy._

_Thank you for bringing out the real me._

_More than you ever knew, I loved you._

The weeks after the funeral were a blur of wedding planning with his new, very much female, fiancee, preparing himself for a lifetime in the closet. It made guilt claw away at him, thinking about what Chris would say if he could see him. Would he understand? Or would he call him a coward for committing to a woman that he could never love the way she deserved? It kept him awake some nights, trying to imagine what his life might be like if he hadn’t left the army, if Chris hadn’t died, if he hadn’t been so terrified to be himself.

Then, he fell in love with Ben Mitchell.

Ben who reignited the flame within him that he thought had been long blown out. He was infuriating in the most intoxicating way possible, like an addiction that Callum couldn’t help but go back to over and over again. The way he felt with Ben, he hadn’t felt that way in a long time, like he wasn’t pretending to be something or some _one_ else.

God, as hard as he tried, he couldn’t hate Ben. If anything, the fact that he knew they shouldn’t be doing what they were doing only made Callum want him more. At first, Callum thought he could ignore it, the growing fondness he felt for Ben, but fate had other plans for him. The harder he tried to push away his feelings for the younger man, they came back with enough force to send his head spinning. 

Now, a failed wedding, a hostage situation and a very public coming out later, here they are. 

Boyfriends.

Ben’s hand is a warm and welcome weight in Callum’s own, grip just tight enough that it makes Callum feel grounded, like Ben is the anchor stopping him from drifting away to sea and drowning. 

It had slowly crept up on him, the anniversary of Chris’ death, until suddenly it was like a tsunami of grief had swept over his body, paralysing him. This morning, he can’t even force himself out of bed. It’s like there’s an imaginary weight on his chest, forcing himself back down onto the mattress every time he tries to break free. This is the first year that he’s spent Chris’ anniversary as an out man. It’s bittersweet in a way, to feel proud of himself but still to wonder what Chris might have said. Would he be happy? Beaming with pride? Would they even have been in touch? There’s too many unanswered questions and words that had gone unsaid. He wishes he could spend today remembering all the things he loved about Chris instead of the unyielding grief that sits on his chest. Maybe, with time, it’ll get easier.

Ben runs his free hand through Callum’s hair, still soft and mussed from a long night of twisting and turning, before pressing a featherlight kiss to his forehead. Neither of them have gotten much sleep, Callum’s constant movement during the night keeping them both awake, but Ben’s not complaining. To be there for Callum in a way he wishes someone had been there for him after Paul died, it’s something he’s more than willing to do.

“You want some breakfast, babe? I’ll even do that disgusting Highway specialty of ketchup and brown sauce for you.”

Callum huffs out a laugh at the thinly veiled disgust in Ben’s voice at the mention of their weird family tradition. He turns his head slightly, pushing his face into the space between Ben’s neck and shoulder, dropping a kiss to the sensitive skin there.

“I’m not hungry, but thank you.” Callum tries to keep his voice as steady as possible, a constant lump in his throat all morning. “You should go to the cafe though and get yourself something.”

Ben just shakes his head, fingers still moving soft and slow through Callum’s hair. They lay like that for a while, in a comfortable silence, the morning sun glowing brighter with every passing moment. It’s exactly what Callum needs, to know that Ben is there if he wants to open up about Chris, but that he won’t push him to talk either. As much as he wants to, every time Callum has tried to speak about Chris in the past it’s ended up making him feel worse than he had when he’d bottled it up. But, this is Ben, his boyfriend who loves him unconditionally, who has felt that same excruciating pain himself. He’s spoken about Chris a few times with Ben, never saying too much, but enough that Ben understands what Chris meant to him.

“I still think about him.. I think I loved him” Callum whispers, already feeling his fingers begin to shake slightly in Ben’s loose grasp. He’s never admitted it out loud before, that what he felt for Chris was more than friendship, more than admiration. Now that he knows what it feels like to love and be loved by Ben, he’s sure he loved Chris back then. 

Ben tightens his grip ever so slightly on Callum’s hand, twisting slightly in the bed so he can look at Callum properly, silently encouraging him to stay talking.

“I just.. I was so scared back then you know? Too scared to tell him, as much as I thought he felt the same way about me, but there was always that voice in my head holding me back. Then Vicky showed up and told me about the letters, and I realised that he might have loved me back.”

Callum’s blinking away the tears that have gathered at his lash line, head tilting forward slightly as Ben runs the pad of his thumb across his cheeks to catch the tears that have fallen regardless. He doesn’t want to fall apart right now, he wants to remember Chris the way he deserves, with the happiness that he made him feel all those years ago. 

“How could he not have loved you back?” Ben says, a comforting smile on his lips as he meets Callum’s gaze, blue eyes shining with sincerity. “You’re impossible not to love. From what you’ve told me before, you made him just as happy as he made you.”

His words make Callum smile for the first time all morning, feeling thankful beyond words to have Ben as his anchor today. As the morning continues on, he opens up more and more, telling Ben stories from his army days that have them giggling like schoolboys. For the first time since he learned of Chris’ passing, he can remember him with fondness and love instead of crushing heartbreak. 

As the morning transforms into the afternoon, Callum’s chest feels lighter and his heart less broken as he lays next to Ben. The more they talk, or rather, the more Callum talks and Ben listens, he finally understands what people mean when they say that time can heal. Sure, it doesn’t take away the pain of loss, but you learn to live with it in ways that don’t hurt as much.

With Ben at his side, holding his hand through his grief, he can remember Chris the way he deserves, with the same happiness and warmth he made Callum feel.

Chris was his first love, the one who opened up his heart, made him realise who he was, even if he was too scared to hold on to it. As long as he lives, he’ll remember Chris and the way he made Callum feel. He’ll remember his smile, his laugh, his unwavering love.

Ben?

Ben is his forever love, the one who holds his hand through his grief, makes him the happiest he’s ever been, _loves_ him more than Callum could have imagined someone ever would. 

Ben is his homeland, his northstar, his _soulmate_. 

With Ben by his side, they’ll be okay.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> tysm for reading, i’d love to know what you thought because this is my first time writing something like this (but also please bare in mind this is meant to focus more on callum x chris than ben x callum) 
> 
> come chat to me on tumblr @calangelhighway


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